


Absence

by Awritesomething



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hope, Reflection, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awritesomething/pseuds/Awritesomething
Summary: Whispers of the Child's coos filled Din's ears as he watched the stars shift with their location. When he rounded a corner, Din reflexively found himself looking down at his boots so as not to bump into the small creature. Worst of all was the constant feeling of a missing weight in his arms.Din could purchase new weapons, or even find himself another ship. But the Child was irreplaceable. That's why Din refused to consider the Child might be gone forever.--An exploration of how Din is doing after a certain tragedy, taking place between chapters 14 and 15.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	Absence

**Author's Note:**

> This piece takes place between chapters 14 and 15, so beware of spoilers for season 2. I thought it would be interesting to get a glimpse into Din's mind after chapter 14, and this piece was the result. Please excuse any inaccuracies as I’m not the most knowledgeable Star Wars fan!

For as long as Din could remember, he had been a light sleeper. 

After he lost his parents, it was nightmares that kept him awake. The expressions on his parents' faces the last time he saw them were a permanent fixture of his mind like ink on skin. As of late, though, it was the soft snores of his little green companion that kept him awake. The Child's slumbering movements were a constant reminder of his presence. Din was no longer alone, and the realization that the Child was dependent on him both worried him and instilled in him a purpose in life unlike any he had ever had before.

At the sound of a whimper, Din's eyes flashed open. He jolted up, smacking his head into the side of the ship. The beskar of his helmet echoed against the metal. 

Din held a hand up to his head. His helmet? Why was he wearing his helmet? He always took it off before sleeping when on his ship, the darkness a sort of shelter of its own that allowed him to rest more comfortably. Realizing he wasn’t even in bed, Din ran his hand over the floor beneath him. The Child had been fussy at night as of late. Had he fallen asleep himself while waiting for the Child’s cries to subside?

Disoriented, Din glanced above him. Where he expected to find the Child's hammock, he found only the darkness of the ship's ceiling. 

And then realization set in. This was not the floor of the Razor Crest. This was Fett's ship. The hum of the engine was much quieter, and the creak of the pipes unfamiliar. 

This was not the Razor Crest, and the Child was gone. 

As Din settled back against the wall, the events of the last few days flashed before him. He saw the Razor Crest consumed by flames and the look of fear in the Child's eyes as he disappeared into the sky. 

During the day, everyone on the Slave I took turns glancing in his direction. Din was as silent as ever, yet it was as if everyone was waiting for the moment he'd break regardless of whether they could see his face. 

On a couple of occasions, Cara had attempted small talk. It was no secret that Din was on edge. Yet even under normal circumstances, Din found himself terrible at filling silence with words, so their conversations were brief with topics that went nowhere. 

Fett played his part too, asking Din to give him a hand with this or that. It was unimportant and tedious work, but it kept Din busy. And for that, he was grateful. 

Fennec stayed out of his way the most out of the three, apart from the time she spent daily cleaning her weapons while Din sat nearby. Din didn't know Fennec well, but to his surprise, he appreciated the steadiness of her silent companionship the most. Now fully awake, Din could remember Fennec nodding goodnight to him before heading to sleep herself. Din must have fallen asleep sometime after, propped up against the wall where he spent most of his time planning for what came next. 

Fumbling in the dark, Din reached into his pocket for the silver ball. At first, the Child's insistence in taking it for himself had been an annoyance. But now, it was a reminder of everything Din had gained through the Child. With the Child, giggles filled the cockpit and crumbs covered the copilot's chair. As much as the Child needed Din, it seemed Din had grown to need the Child too. 

Of course, Din always knew that in the end he was to leave the Child. After all, he was a Mandalorian. The Child's powers were something foreign to him, the Force a mystery Din never thought he'd someday have to confront, much less unravel. But even so, the longer the Child was under Din's care, the more difficult it became to imagine things ever going back to the way they were. 

The Child gave Din a reason to make it back to his ship safe. It's not that Din had ever been terribly reckless, but having someone dependent on him made him reconsider the importance of caring for himself too. The Child was someone that loved Din for who he was, regardless of his past, the blood on his hands, or even the fact he never showed his face. 

Yet even as the reality of the end goal loomed in the back of Din's mind, it was never supposed to end like this. Unsuccessfully, Din tried to keep his mind from drifting to the Child's current state. When he closed his eyes, he saw the Child huddled in some dark cell alone. Were they hurting him? Was he being fed? Above all else, Din worried the Child believed he had abandoned him intentionally. 

With Din, for the first time in forever, the Child had been given a chance to act like what he was: a kid. He put things into his mouth he wasn't supposed to and threw tantrums when he didn't get his way. The ability to be a kid was a luxury Din was all too familiar with losing years ago. And now the same ability had been stripped from the Child. It was Din's job to protect him, and he failed. 

Din felt that failure everywhere. The Child's absence left behind the ghost of his presence. Whispers of the Child's coos filled Din's ears as he watched the stars shift with their location. When he rounded a corner, Din reflexively found himself looking down at his boots so not to bump into the small creature. Worst of all was the constant feeling of a missing weight in his arms. At all hours of the day, the Child would stretch out his hands to be picked up. If Din was sitting in his pilot's chair, merely leaning back to make sure the ship stayed on course, odds were that the Child could have been found asleep on his chest. 

Din could purchase new weapons, or even find himself another ship. But the Child was irreplaceable. That's why Din refused to consider the Child might be gone forever. If they... no _when_ they retrieved Mayfeld, they would find the coordinates to Gideon's ship. Din would march on to Gideon's ship with the strength of a _father_. After all, as nervous and stubborn as he was to admit it, that was what Din had become to the Child. A father put their kid first, and that's exactly what Din intended to do. 

Din rolled the silver ball between his gloved fingers. Standing to his feet, Din willed it into the galaxy that the Child knew he was searching for him. _I'm on my way, Grogu_ , Din thought. He made his way to his cot, and with that, settled into an unrestful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated.


End file.
